22 Years in the Life of Teddy Lupin
by lyssanoelle
Summary: Teddy/Victoire one shot.  Chronicling from the time Teddy first met Victoire, to 22 years later in life.


**A/N: Kinda stepping out of my Meg/Erik comfort zone with this, but Second Generation stuff has been invading my mind recently. I'm currently writing another as well, but just haven't posted it yet.**

**Disclaimer: I **_**AM**_** J.K. Rowling.**

**No, actually, I'm not.**

You're two when you first meet her. All the adults say it's much to young to remember anything, but you remember going to the hospital that day. You remember staring down at a red-faced baby, wrapped in a pink blanket. You remember someone saying her name is Victoire.

When you're three, you spend lots of time with her. You spend lots of time with the Weasleys in general, but especially with her. She sits in a baby bouncer at her grandmother's house, sucking on a toy. You sit in front of her, squinting up your face and changing your hair color. It's the one thing you currently have mastered, and she claps and goes into a fit of baby-like giggles.

At age four, you declare to the rest of the family that you two are best friends. You take this back in a few minutes though, upon realizing that she can't do anything you want to do. Harry quietly reminds you that she is only two, after all, and you couldn't do much when you were two. You sigh and decide to take her back as your best friend, and tell her that, very officially. She doesn't seem to take any notice.

Age five is when you realize she's different. She doesn't have red hair like the rest of the Weasleys, but instead, long, blonde hair, like her mother. You've tried to imitate how she looks (shh. . . it's a secret), but you can't get it down. You ask Ginny if there's something special about her, and she gives a bit of a sour look before explaining that she's part Veela, making her part magic creature. You can't help but think it's pretty cool.

When you turn six, she's there. She's starting to become more interesting, and you two can actually play some things now. She has siblings as well though, and you're a bit jealous. You'll never have siblings, no matter how many times you wish for them. You look at her, sitting right across from you at the table, through the candles. She sings Happy Birthday, and you don't wish for siblings this year.

Age seven and you two are actually best friends. You spend summer afternoons at the Burrow, swimming and playing low games of quidditch. She's getting more and more cousins, and you like them all, but not as much as you like Victoire. Sometimes you play with them, but they're all still really young. So you do for them what you did for Victoire when you were three. You change your appearance and make them all laugh.

The summer when you're eight years old, she isn't there. Her family is visiting France, to see her mother's family. You try to entertain yourself for the month she's gone, but it doesn't work out very well. You end up exhibiting wizarding skills that year, and well, some of the Weasleys end up in trees.

Victoire comes up behind you on your ninth birthday, shouting 'Surprise!' You nearly jump out of your skin, and she laughs a little, before presenting you with a lump of wrapping paper. You give her a strange look and she counters back, chiding you to open the darned thing. You do, and find a small wolf stuffed-animal. You give her another strange look, about to remind her that you've outgrown stuffed animals, before she chimes in "Uncle Harry said it was like your Daddy." You kept all through Hogwarts, and still to this day.

When you're ten you and you attend the memorial for the war, you look over to her. She's dressed all fancy-like, but she looks upset. Then you remember. This isn't just the memorial day, this is her birthday. And just like every other year, she has to be here, and listen to all her family talk about people that died in the war. People are never actually happy on her birthday. You look down at the two flowers in your hands. They're supposed to be for each of your parents, but when you look up to the sky, you figure they can share, for just this one year. So when you walk up to lay the flowers down, you only put one onto the ground, and then return back to your seat. Grandma gives you a questioning look, but you just look ahead. At the end of the ceremony, you find Victoire, standing with her siblings, still looking down. You hold out the other flower, a white calla lily. "Happy Birthday Victoire," you say, and she smiles.

Age eleven is when you get to attend Hogwarts. You can't wait, and Gran takes you to the train station, where Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasleys are waiting. You look through all of them, and see a little nine-year-old blonde, with a wet face and red eyes. You walk to her, and ask what's wrong. She blubbers out that she doesn't want you to leave, because you're her best friend and she doesn't know what to do without you. You gently remind her that you'll be back on holidays, and she'll be going to Hogwarts in just two years, and she can write. She sniffles a bit, and your Gran comes to get you on the train. You watch her waving to you the until she's out of sight.

It's your second year, and you're twelve years old. You're a Hufflepuff, just like your mum. Victoire still writes you at least once a week, telling you everythint that's going on with her cousins and family. You can't wait until she comes next year, and hope she's in Hufflepuff too, even though you think she has a better chance of being in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw is more likely. You write her back, telling her what to expect, and that summer, when she gets her own letter, you give her a hug and a high-five.

It's the first day of new term, your third year and her first. You can see her from your place at the house table, a small head of blonde hair outshining all the rest. She's one of the last to go up to the hat, and when her name "Weasley, Victoire" is called out, the hall goes silent. She's the first, in a long line of Weasleys to come. She walks up slowly, and turns around, looking nervous. You give her a small thumb's up, before the hat is placed on her head, falling over her eyes. The hall remains silent while everyone waits to see where this first Weasley will be placed. You keep thinking, _Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff_. But the hat cries out 'GRYFFINDOR', and is pulled off her head. She gives you a look as she runs over to her new table. You'll still see her, you think. And it fits that she be placed there, she is a Weasley after all.

You watch her from across the hall when you're fourteen. She laughs with her friends through breakfast, and anytime a boy comes near to her, you're tempted to curse him into oblivion. But she still talks to you, and on nice days, you'll walk together on the grounds. She sends you to get Honeydukes sweets for her on Hogsmeade weekends, and you help her study for her end of term finals.

You're fifteen, Hufflepuff prefect, and patrolling the corridors at night when you hear someone crying nearby. You walk slowly to the small heap on the floor, and immediately recognize the white-blonde hair and tiny frame. "Vic. . ." you whisper, and she looks up. You ask her what's wrong, and she blubbers out that all her roommates, and half the house hates her. You're confused, and lower down to her level, while she explains how one of her friend's boyfriends went after her, and she tried to tell him no, but he wouldn't listen, and now everyone thinks she's a bitch. You embrace her, and make a mental note to send the kid to the hospital wing. It's that night when you realize you're in love with her.

You know you love her in sixth year, but you won't say anything. You can't. She's only fourteen, and her family would probably kill you. So you watch from the side lines, through the great hall, watching her. Across the quidditch field, cheering her team on. At times you're tempted to blurt it out, but no. No. You won't tell her. You can't tell her. It's for her own good, you try to convince yourself. You try.

Seventh year. This is the end. You were made Head Boy, and Gran and the Weasleys were proud of you. Victoire offered you her congratulations. She's not the same girl she was in first year. She's grown, matured. You're still madly in love with her, and you build up the courage to tell her. You ask her to the Christmas Ball. She says yes. The night comes, and she looks magnificent in her dress robes, like something out of the muggle fairytales Hermione and Harry would read to you. You two dance throughout the night, and at the very end, the very last song, you whisper in her ear "I love you Victoire." She responds by kissing you.

You're fresh out of Hogwarts at eighteen, and starting to understand how Victoire felt those two years before she came. She still writes you, and you go to Hogsmeade and meet her there. None of her family know about the two of you just yet, and she wants to keep it that way. A part of you does as well, her father does partially scare you, but at the same time, you don't want to keep secrets from them. They always did offer a home for you, a substitute for a family.

You decide to see her off for her final year. You appear at the platform, and lead her to a corner, and the two of you kiss passionately. That is, until a certain James Potter comes an interrupts you. Victoire starts quietly cursing, he's sure to go and tell her family. You pull her close to you, reassuring her that it will be okay. She nods slowly, and climbs onto the train. You wave to her, just as she did all those years ago for you, and as the scarlet train leaves the station, her uncles surrounding him. "So, Lupin. . ."

She's out of Hogwarts now, and you're twenty years old. She's only eighteen, and in training to become a Healer at St. Mungo's. You still see her on the weekends, when you two either go out for dinner, or visit the other's flat. Her family is warming up to the idea of you two being together, but you still are careful at family gatherings. Bill Weasley still shoots you warning glances every now and then, and Louis tries to act tough, only to go back to liking you after about a week.

At age twenty-one, you are seriously considering proposing to her, but decide to wait. She's still young, and you have a feeling her mother will be the one to kill you if you marry her before she thinks her daughter is of age. Upon thinking about it, you realize that Fleur was about twenty-one when she was married, and you decide to wait until then. But you don't want to wait until then, because you love Victoire, and Victoire loves you. But, you will wait. For her.

The two of you are lying together on a picnic blanket one afternoon, her head on your chest. You are twenty-two, and she is barely twenty. The two of you are silent, before she sits up, looking you in the eyes. "Let's get married, Teddy." She says, and at first, you wonder if she's serious. "Now…?" You ask, a bit stupidly. "Well, not now… but in a few years, maybe." She lied back down, looking back to the sky. You look at her, and think about the box in your pocket. Gently, you remove your chest from under her, and she sits up again, eying you suspiciously. You pull it out of your pocket, getting down on one knee. Her hands go up to her mouth in shock, her eyes widening. You ask, and she says yes.

At age twenty-three, you watch her come down the aisle. She is smiling widely, her father on her arm. She looks gorgeous, and you almost can't believe your eyes. She's going to be your wife. She reaches you, and after saying goodbye to her father, looks at you, still smiling. You are in Nana Molly's backyard, she would have it no other way. The minister marries you, and you kiss, and you can't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world. You dance with her that night, a smile never leaving either of your faces. You imagine the rest of your life with her, and realize, you would have it no other way.

And at age twenty-four, she gives you the best gift you have ever received. A small bundle of pink placed in your arms, and Victoire smiling up at you. A small tuft of color changing hair, and sparkling blue eyes, looking up at you. A small bundle that you both agree to name Charlotte Nymphadora.

**A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Reviews please.**


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